


Broken

by captain_sassy_socks



Category: Stargate SG-1
Genre: Alcohol Abuse/Alcoholism, Episode: s07e16 Death Knell, F/M, Friendship, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, Sad
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-09-22
Updated: 2019-09-22
Packaged: 2020-10-26 07:16:23
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,084
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20738351
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/captain_sassy_socks/pseuds/captain_sassy_socks
Summary: Sam and Jack deal with the aftermath of the supersoldier's attack.





	Broken

**Author's Note:**

> I was disappointed how the writers glossed over all the trauma, loss, and pain, Sam had to deal with in season 7.
> 
> My take on what might have happened.
> 
> Oh, for the sake of this story Pete is far, far, far away and irrelevant.

The house is disturbingly quiet, not a sound can be heard except for her breathing and the thuds when the drinking glass hits the table.

All lights are switched on, chasing away shadows lurking in the dark. Every gloomy corner of her house feels like a trap, adamantly threaten to pull her mind back into the nightmare. Into a fight for survival which she loses every time.

She sits on her couch, clad in a tank top and sweatpants, and stares at the clear liquid in the tumbler. She swirls it around and calculates that emptying half the bottle would be enough to ensure a dreamless night. Recently, she has become quite adept at estimating the right amount. She downs the oily, silky liquid at once and wishes for it to wash away the memories of that fateful day.

Why can’t she be okay again? She is a skillful soldier, not some damaged goods. She has survived so many close calls and has come out pretty much unscarred. Why is it different this time? Why can’t she move on?

Another shot burns its way down her throat.

Everywhere she sees its face. Every shadow a reminder. Nightmares are her constant companion from dusk to dawn, and self-doubt crushes her during the day. However, she has no time to wallow in self-pity. She must function and carry on with the next mission. Some higher power has decided ages ago that she is the one to save the universe when all other options are exhausted. When they are in a tight spot, everybody always looks at her for a last-minute solution. They let her carry the burden and fate of the galaxy and expect her not to crumble.

She hates to feel broken and weak.

She refills the tumbler. Her eyes bore at the captivating liquid in search of oblivion and redemption.

The front door opens.

Immediately, adrenaline floods her system and panic settles in her bones. Her hair stand on end, heartbeat increases, breathing comes at a rapid pace, and bile rises at the back of her throat. Her eyes frantically search for anything to use as a weapon. She wishes for a zat gun or even better a P90 to ward off the intruder.

The footsteps are approaching.

She scolds herself for leaving all lights on, serving herself on a plate as an easy target. She grabs the tumbler and in a skilled maneuver takes cover behind the couch, waiting for the perfect moment to strike. Her mind is drawn back to that particular day at the Alpha Side. The lines between reality and memory become blurred. Trapped in this mental state of uncertainty, the monster’s black mask stirs up in vivid details, grotesque and abhorrent. It mocks her with the promise of a painful and unavoidable death.

A shadow enters the living room. Sam aims, jumps up and throws her weapon forcefully at the target. Due to the intruder’s fast reflexes, she misses by an inch. The glass shatters at the wall behind. 

“Major, what the ...? Stand down!” a harsh and commanding voice barks at her.

She freezes instantly. The familiarity of the order stops her from launching herself at him and engage in hand-to-hand combat. As the tension leaves her body, her legs become unsteady, and she stumbles forward. She closes her eyes and with trembling hands leans on the backrest for support. She tries to slow down her breathing, partly succeeding. She knows it’s her commanding officer. Of all the people she can’t deal with right now, it must be him.

“You are not welcome here.” The crisp words are directed at him, deliberately not caring about adding ‘sir’ or ‘colonel’.

“Janet gave me the spare key. She is worried about you.” He picks up a shard of broken glass and discards it.

“I’m fine,” she retorts in a harsh tone and slumps back on the couch, avoiding eye contact.

He takes in her miserable state and wonders how many nights she has already tried to find salvation at the bottom of a bottle. Without waiting for an invitation, he sits down next to her. He places the alcohol out of her reach.

“What the hell are you doing?” she seethes and tries to grab it.

“You’ve had enough.” A warning accompanies his words.

Ignoring it, she yells. “Since when do you decide what’s best for me? I can take care of myself.” Her eyes fix him with barely restrained anger. He doesn’t budge and holds her stare. 

After a few moments which feel like an eternity, she averts her gaze. The adrenaline in her body disappears. Her anger is replaced by humiliation. She is ashamed of her inability to maintain the facade of the perfect soldier. She never wanted him to see her like this, losing control. Her fingers fidget with the seam of her top.

“It’s not every night. Just today,” she lies.

“I know. I’ve been there.”

“It keeps the monsters away.” The words slip out, barely audible before she can stop them. 

He regards her and tries to decipher the meaning behind her statement. He can only assume what is really bothering her. Slowly he lifts up one hand, intends not to startle her, and, when she doesn’t flinch, rubs her shoulder in a comforting gesture. His fingers skim down her arm and entwine with hers, forcing her to look at him.

Once he has her full attention, he pleads. “Talk to me, Sam. Not to the colonel, to Jack.”

She is torn between opening up to him and denying everything. So scared she will break if she tells him what keeps her awake at night. She tries to deflect and buy herself some time.

“How do you cope with the burden and not crumble?” 

He recognizes the question as an evasion on her part, nevertheless he indulges her. “I accepted this part of the job a long time ago.” Gesturing to the bottle of alcohol he probes. “But that’s not what this is all about.”

“No,” she admits with a shake of her head. She bites down on her lower lip in misery, weighing the pros and cons in her head. She is terrified at the notion that he would dismiss her nightmares and ridicule her for them. That he would tell her to move on and be a strong soldier, not a weak woman. Or worse, that he would request her to transfer to another team. That he cannot trust her to have his back anymore. That she has become a liability in the field. On the other hand, he has faced more tragedy and loss than anybody else. If someone comprehends what she’s going through it is definitely him. He has never given her the feeling of being inferior or unworthy. He may not be good with words; however, his actions during or after a difficult mission speak for themselves, a reassuring squeeze here, a comforting hug there. It is an essential part of the Jack O’Neill she trusts with all her heart. 

He gently squeezes her hand to bring her out of her reverie. She searches his face for any clues to help her reach a decision. She finds trust, kindness and understanding. 

He doesn’t flinch under her scrutiny and patiently waits for her.

She takes a deep breath and tries to phrase her thoughts. “When you were in Black Ops…, all the missions, Iraq, you know...how did you work through it?”

“I never really did. I received my orders, eliminated the target, returned. Moved on to the next mission. Nothing else mattered. My only bright spots were Sara and Charlie, until…,” the words die on his tongue. Even after all these years, the memory is still painful. “Sara always saw the signs and tried to help me, be there for me. I couldn’t let her in, too afraid to bury her under my pain. She deserved a happy, not broken husband. And for a while I convinced myself, I could fool her.”

He looks at her with a forlorn expression, reliving a moment long suppressed. He shakes his head and focuses back on her sad eyes. “I never expected to return from Abydos. It was meant to be a one-way trip.”

She knows enough about the mission to recognize how close he came to dying. Against all odds he survived which mirrors her own, recent experience. 

“Daniel made me realize that my life didn’t have to be over, that there was hope. He gave me a reason to believe.”

He pauses for a moment. A pensive smile plays around his lips.

“And then I met you and Teal’c and later Cassie, Thor and even Jonas. Many reasons to believe.” He places their entwined hands over his heart. “Eventually, I believed.”

A single tear escapes and runs down her cheek. She chokes on her words in agony. “I don’t know how. Every time I look in the mirror, I only see a shadow of myself. Broken.”

He regards her slumped shoulders and the distressed expression on her face. Her eyes plead with him. She is on the verge of breaking down but still tries to uphold the facade of having to appear unfazed and strong. He needs to get his message through to Sam, not Carter, not his 2IC.

“Come here, Sam,” he offers in the same tender voice, he used back then.

She rushes into his embrace, buries her face in the nape of his neck, clutches the front of his shirt and silently sobs.

“I hate to be weak.” A whispered declaration, full of self-doubt and despair.

His heart shatters at her confession. He tightens his arms around her. “You are not weak, Sam. You are a survivor, the strongest person I know.”

His strokes up and down her spine are laced with sympathy and reassurance, a subliminal message to help her get through the pain. The soothing motions of his hands start to calm her nerves. Her sobs quieten down until she surrenders to his warmth and serenity.

When he is sure that his words will register with her, he proceeds. “I remember the first day in the briefing room. You were so enthusiastic, bright-eyed, and determined to prove yourself. You even challenged me to arm wrestle with you,” he chuckles at the memory. 

In a more somber voice, he carries on. “I was skeptical at the beginning and treated you poorly on the first few missions. I only saw the scientist, not the rest of you. You proved yourself quickly, became a valuable member of the team. You saved our asses more times than we deserved.”

He squeezes her lightly in gratitude.

“From the beginning, I’ve always dreaded the day when I would be too late. When I couldn’t protect you.” He pauses for a second to take a deep breath. “When you turned into a mirror of my former self.”

At his heartfelt revelation, her head shoots up to meet him with disbelief.

“How can you say that? You are an amazing, kind, and caring man, Jack.” Her fingers caress the hair at the nape of his neck.

He stares at her in melancholy, cradles her face in both hands and whispers. “I have seen and done many unspeakable things. I have killed more people than I care to admit. And every time I close my eyes, I can see their faces. They don’t scare me anymore. I got used to the presence of their ghosts.”

Before she can respond, he places a thumb against her lips to keep her silent. Her eyes implore him skeptically, searching for a hidden meaning.

“I am scarred, Sam. But you, you are still innocent. Your heart cares and bleeds deeply.”

His kindness and compassion break a dam inside of her. She bursts into tears and buries her face in his shirt. She clings onto him for dear life as she releases the suppressed pain and all the buried emotions surface. Her whole body shakes uncontrollably while he holds her in his arms. 

“I cannot promise you that the nightmares will ever go away. But I can make sure that you don’t turn into a cold-hearted, cynical, old soldier. You are so much more than this. You need to believe, Sam.”

He places a soft kiss into her hair to emphasize the meaning of his words. A simple gesture to assure her that they will get through this together and that he will always be there for her, no matter what.


End file.
